Life Note
by OneBadPanda
Summary: The sound of screeching breaks bellowed out through the once quiet street. In the distance, a truck had roughly snatched around a corner and came barreling down the road, aiming to beat the yellow light. Its rackety old shell was clanking crudely against the barely attached hood, though it was hard to hear over the thunderous engine. The driver, drunk, did not see the girl.
1. Where Once was Life

**Where Once was Life,**

**Life Is No More.**

Harbingering the end of another busy day in the city of Yokohama, the sun slowly set over the distant horizon beyond the tall buildings and bright street lights. As the border of gold sank downwards, the tall lamps along the sidewalks lit up one by one until all that was left was their flickering yellow glow. A dribble of water meandered down one of the thick glass coverings of a lamp, remnant of the recent shower. Yellow light wiggled in the puddles near the edge of the street, exploding into little beads with every passing vehicle. Despite the city's size, after a certain hour the streets always grew quiet. There were but a few late workers who scuttled home after a long day by this time. Among them was a woman dressed in a light brown coat and blue jeans. She had lifted up the collar of the coat and held it tight by her neck, trying to keep out the cool breeze that swept down the streets and between buildings. Her old sneakers were damp from the rain, though luckily she didn't get caught directly in the downpour. Currently, she was walking alone on the sidewalk. This was normal routine for her. The distance between her living space and place of work was an entire city length apart, and it always took an hour or more to get to and from. Having recently departed from the subway station, she only had a few blocks left to walk.

Her feet paused at an intersection. The bright glow of the traffic lights above blared down on empty asphalt. No cars were around but the lights loyally repeated their routine. Across the intersection was a typical walk or don't walk sign, and she waited—as always—for it to allow her passage across the road.

The sound of screeching breaks bellowed out through the once quiet street. In the distance, farther down the adjacent street, a truck had roughly snatched around a corner and came barreling down the road, aiming to beat the yellow light. Its rackety old shell was clanking crudely against the barely attached hood, though it was hard to hear over the thunderous engine. Soon, soft grey eyes were ablaze from the fast approaching headlights. The driver, drunk, did not see the girl.

Once again screeching breaks pierced the night air and the speeding truck came to a halt after nearly tipping over from the driver cutting the wheel sharply to the right in a last-second attempt to avoid the figure in the road. Two pairs of feet stepped out of the truck, staggering a little from the jolt of the vehicle as well as the alcohol in their system. One rubbed his head as he made his way around the truck to see if what they were trying to avoid was anywhere in sight. The dark, lumpy mass not too far away confirmed his fears. Narrowing his eyes in a sudden scowl, he turned towards the driver sharply.

"You hit someone you jackass!" he barked at the other man who was still trying to wrap his mind around the situation.

A moment later, the driver glanced over at his bent up hood before peering back at the other man who yelled at him. "Shut up and help me move the body! I'm not about to go back to jail tonight." The gruff driver marched over towards the body. His partner, awe-stricken from the response he received, didn't say anything more. He, too, did not want to go to jail. Looking around, he saw no one who could have witnessed the event. It would be easier to just move the body rather than call the police for an accident report. Humbly, he moved to assist the driver. Together they had taken the bloody and broken body and placed it in the back of their truck. They quickly headed for the nearby subway station to drop it off and try to forget the tragedy as street lamps reflected in the now dull and lifeless grey eyes.

"What are you doing?" the passenger asked as he watched the driver start melding through the woman's clothing after they had laid her down a corner of the subway where people often tossed away old clothing for the shelters to pick up.

"Seeing if she has any cash on her," the driver answered. "Maybe a credit card or something." He spoke in a calm tone, seemingly unaffected and numb to the situation.

"Come on, haven't we done enough?" the passenger pleaded. "I just want to get out of here."

"Shut up and stop acting like a damn baby!" the driver snapped as he dug into the pockets of the light brown jacket. "Besides, it's not like she is going to need it. Might as well make this look like a robbery." A moment of silence later the man growled and rose to his feet. "Dumb bitch doesn't even have anything. All I found was this old I.D. from the Children's Village Orphanage." He tossed the card and it swayed downwards to land on the heap on the ground. "Whatever, let's get going. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nothing to do about it now." The burly man turned away and began marching towards the subway stairs. The passenger, feeling quite ashamed, bent down to pick up the I.D. card. After a quick examination he figured the card was outdated by at least five or six years. Also that, according to the card, she was a foreigner from Italy.

"Ceres Iesada…" he read in a low voice. "I'm very sorry."

"Hurry up!" the driver called from above. The ashamed man bent down and tucked the I.D. card back into the dead woman's jacket before turning and running up the stairs. The truck sped off in a loud rumble once more and that night was never spoken of again.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Thanks for reading! Life Note (2014) is a re-written form of the 2008 version. Due to many reviews and requests from only 8 chapters in, I've decided to re-vamp and continue the story to the end. All helpful critique is welcome, as well as any suggestions a reader may have. I hope to continue to please the readers of this story, past and future. :)<em>**


	2. Chapter 1

She opened her eyes, her vision blurred at first but then clearing up to the brightly lit subway floor. Her eyes hurt a little so she lifted her arm to shield them. She could hear voices up above her as well as footsteps walking by wherever it was she was sitting. After a moment of gathering her wits, she lifted her head. "What...happened?" Ceres asked herself, barely over a whisper. Looking around, the woman realized she was in the subway station. Not too far away one of the trains was stopped to dispense and receive passengers. A few of the people gave choice glances in her direction, but otherwise made no move to come near her to check on her condition, or even ask why it was she was there. She picked herself up, resting her weight on her opposite hand. She noticed she was leaning on something that felt a little rougher than the clothes she mysteriously ended up in. "I feel like I was hit by a damn..." she stopped upon noticing that her bloody hand was over a small white book. "...truck..." She reached for it, a pain shooting up through the center of her back which caused her to flinch. Not giving up on trying to move, her outstretched hand took hold of the small book and pulled it back to her lap. It was thin, but pure white. She flipped it over, and in beautifully written black letters it read 'Life Note'. She sat back up against the wall as she held it in her hands, ignoring the dull pain in her spine. "Life Note? What is this, someone's journal?" She noted some people approaching and quickly shoved the book in her jacket and stood, shaking and nearly falling.

The people looked at her with dumbfounded expressions. She just stared back, not yet realizing that her face and hands and mid-section was covered in streaming dried blood. She stumbled by them without saying a word and boarded the subway car that was still awaiting passengers. She found a seat far away from the very few people in the car and sat down in the corner, putting her hand on her forehead as she tried to figure out what could have possibly happened to her. _What happened to me? _she wondered. _My body feels so sore… The last thing I remember is hearing loud breaks, and such bright lights… Did that truck actually…?_

It was morning to her when the swarm of business men and women joined her car sharply on the six o'clock stop in downtown Tokyo. Normally, Ceres would have hid in a corner or blended in with the walls, but this morning her body would simply not answer her calls. She could smell blood and dirt all over her and tried to hide it. Strangely enough, she couldn't find any noticeable wounds. As the subway car came to a slow halt at it's third stop, she hobbled out of the subway car and up into the bright streets of a sunny day Tokyo; the complete reverse of her night time home. She almost wished she was there in the rundown streets where no one would give a shit about her or what she looked like…but just almost.

"Ceres, hurry up with that you dimwitted girl. I don't know why I put up with you," came a harsh, older voice of a woman showing well her age. She was a short, wrinkly thing with long greying hair that was always pulled up into a bun atop her head. This was perhaps the one time Ceres was thankful that the old hag didn't much care about her employees. When she came in that morning she knew she looked terrible and hurried to the bathroom to clean up and put on her apron. It covered up most of the damage; however, it was still blatantly obvious that the girl had at least had a run-in with some unfortunate events.

"Sorry, Mrs. McCormick," the girl in the brown coat pacified knowing better than to correct her hot-headed boss in saying she had been done with her task for a long time. After all, Mrs. McCormick never found a reason to leave her backroom TV and waddle out during business hours unless it was to check the register, and knowing that today was a very slow day it was very unlikely she would bother. That, of course, left Ceres to manage "Mrs. McCormick's Flowers and Seeds", the only flower shop ever to give you both plants and lung cancer; the shop air was perfumed in nothing but the cigarettes the misses puffed.

After a while the bell on the door jingled just as Ceres was watering the roses and a timid Mr. McCormick stepped inside the shop. Unlike his wife, Mr. McCormick was a hardworking man who toiled nights in a factory but could still take a joke and always insisted every one call him "Sam" and not "Mr. McCormick".

"Good morning, Sam," Ceres greeted lightly, her face brightening a little at the old man's presence. He always made the air in the shop feel lighter.

Mr. McCormick flashed her a tired smile while working to loosen his tie. "And an excellent morning it is, Ceres. Though I do admit I am not planning to stay up and see it pass." Ceres nodded knowingly as he looked around the flower shop, yawned greatly, and rubbed his eyes. "This place really is slow," he addressed the emptiness of it all.

"We had a couple in earlier," Ceres offered, only to be ignored by a half deaf Sam.

Sam rummaged in his pocket and held out a bill for her to take. "Here," he said, "could you get me and Joann a cup of Joe? You can keep the change."

Ceres blinked, and then broke out in a rare smile. Two cheap cups of coffee out of ten dollars; oh yes, she really did owe Sam. He knew her troubles and attempted to help in any way he could, at least he did so discretely. Ceres continued to work hard the rest of the day as she always had, doing whatever she could to earn the slightest bit. She was thankful that today was Friday because the shop was closed on the weekends, and that it was pay-day. When she flipped the 'Open' sign to 'Closed' and turned around she found Mrs. McCormick standing there with an envelope between two fingers. She handed it to Ceres in a flustered manner. "Your weeks' pay," she said, then turned and went for the door. "Don't forget to lock up."

Ceres held the envelope in her hand, sighing. The lady had always said that every night before she left. Ceres had never once forgotten such an important task. She fumbled through the store and grabbed her bag and headed out, closing and locking the door behind her. She stood outside the shop, the setting sun's red rays falling upon her. It was time to leave the clean Kanto and head back to Tokyo. She didn't know why she stayed so far away from work in a much worse area than relocating here. Sure, moving would be a difficult task but she still had a tie to the old place. However, she had more than once thought of moving her home to a more appropriate setting.

Ceres boarded the subway train and sat down in the farthest corner once again to try to avoid any unnecessary attention. She sat there for a moment, waiting for the train to start as she touched her face, remembering what she looked like when she went into the bathroom of the flower shop that morning. She couldn't believe she was still alive. Her hand journeyed to her bag and pulled out the little white notebook to examine it again. She hadn't opened it yet, and wasn't sure if she should. Her fingers ghosted across the black letters, and then to the edge where she pulled open the cover.

She scanned over the first page:

**· The human whose name is written in this note shall be saved.**

**· This note will not take effect unless the writer has the subject's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.**

**· If the cause of rescue is written within 40 seconds of writing the subject's name, it will happen.**

**· If the cause of rescue is not specified, the subject will simply be saved by a miracle.**

**· After writing the cause of rescue, the details of the rescue should be written in the next 5 minutes and 30 seconds.**

**· If the person has been declared dead, his/her name must be written in this note within the next 3 hours to be saved.**

Ceres' eyes became wide with concern. _What?_ She turned the page and found something written at the very top of the first page of lines. She peered at it curiously, not recognizing the name right off-hand. She closed the notebook and looked at the cover once more. "Life Note," she whispered. "Seems like someone already tried to see if it was real. It must be a prank." _It has to be a joke. If it wasn't, why would someone just leave it laying around?_

The train car came to a squealing halt. Ceres shoved the book back in her bag and rose, exiting the subway car. She walked quietly down the sidewalk, the skies becoming darker and the few street lights that worked began to light up. _Life Note...Whoever wrote this was pretty thorough about it. Any human whose name is written in this note shall be saved?_ She laughed. _I can't believe I'm actually carrying it around._ Ceres adjusted her bag on her shoulder. _Or even considering..._

The woman looked around to see a few cars occupying the streets alongside motorcycles. She watched people trudge up and down the sidewalks, most looking very tired. _This world is full of filthy people. It covers up the good, and makes is harder for them to live..._ She stopped by a window where small television sets were on display, and as always the news was on. She stood there for a moment to watch. Sometimes they reviewed the weather for the week, so she could get an idea of what to wear the next day or so.

"It has been clarified that today at the Shimin Bank there is a man by the name of Hiroshima Takana who's been holding six people hostage for nearly four hours. Among them, two young students from Hiroshima High School: Toko and Mia Lovete." As the news anchor spoke the girls' names, their class photos appeared on screen. "Policeman say that he refuses to let them go unless his demands are met and that he is heavily armed. Reporters are on the scene now…"

Ceres stared through the glass. _So filthy..._ Her hand slowly reached for her bag but abruptly stopped. _No, it's stupid. It's just some joke_. She shook her head and sharply turned away. Who did she think she was? There was no way that this little notebook could hold such an unfathomable amount of power as saving lives with merely pen and ink. Behind her, she could hear a reporter interviewing the two girl's mother. She was bawling, begging for the man to release her daughters through the cameras. Ceres looked down, her heart panging with sadness and fear. Slowly, she reached for the note once again. Turning over the cover, she reached for the click-pen in her pocket. _What if it works? What if I actually save someone's life?_ _Would I be punished? It isn't my right..._ She quickly wrote the name of the two hostages down and looked up at a large round clock on one of the light posts. She watched the second hand. _Forty seconds..._

She watched until the final forty was up and turned towards the TV, noting that nothing had changed. Her eyes hooded and she shoved the book back into her bag. _Of course..._ She turned away, rather disappointed, and made to walk down the sidewalk once more.

"Oh, hold on there seems to be some movement down there..." came the voice of the news anchor, sounding rather surprised.

The woman stopped and looked behind her at the television, frowning. _What?_

"It's the hostages! The hostages are coming out unharmed!" the television voice blared. "But what about the robber? He's coming out! His hands are up and I believe he is surrendering! He put the gun down. Oh my god I can't believe this. It is truly a miracle. Police are apprehended the suspect now..."

Ceres stood brick still with wide, trembling eyes. She looked down at the bag hanging from her arm. _Any human whose name is written in this note shall be saved. If the cause of rescue is not specified, the subject will simply be saved by a miracle._ Ceres shook her head. "No, it has to be a coincidence," she convinced herself. The girl repeated it over and over in her head as she finished her walk to an old abandoned house. It was two stories, Victorian style. She was surprised that the city had not yet condemned the place to make way for new apartment buildings. She was grateful for it, though. The home was believed to be previously owned by someone of her distant family, but they were proclaimed dead by the time Ceres had reached Japan. Having no one and nowhere to live, she stayed in the house with no electricity, living by candle light.

Ceres rested herself by a table, placing the notebook flat on the top and staring at it. Elbows on wood, she pushed her fingers through her short, cerulean blue hair. Her slate gray eyes beamed down at the elegant black letters. It was hard enough wrapping her mind around how she could have survived such a brutal collision with a vehicle, but now there was this notebook that is declared to save lives. Was there some sort of connection between this note and her being alive? _No, that isn't my name. _Her thumb flipped through the rest of the pages thoroughly to see if she could find anything else written inside. Once reaching the back cover, she found nothing. She sighed softly and hung her head, releasing the note from her grasp.

Between bread and peanuts, there wasn't much food in the house. With no way to refrigerate or cook, Ceres had limited options on her meals. Mrs. McCormick was strangely generous with giving Ceres portions of breakfast and lunch. Though the woman was quite distasteful and grumpy, she had her moments. As for supper, Ceres mostly snacked on Japanese Peanuts, bread, and raw vegetables and fruits. In attempts to get away from the notebook she made herself a fruit bowl and sat back down at the table, pulling over the small battery-operated television set she had and turning the dial over. The screen was scratchy, so she reached up to mess with the rabbit-ear antenna until a clear picture was seen. As she nibbled on an apple slice, she listened as the late-night news reviewed the recent happenings in the area. As usual these days, they reported sudden or unexplained deaths of criminals. Kira was now a country-wide known, and crime was at an all-time low. Ceres had been following the case through the news, and knew nothing more than what the media was feeding her. However, the more she watched the more her eyes roamed over to look at the notebook beside her. "Kira has killed a lot of people… No one has been able to stop him for so long now; I wonder if anyone is still trying." She took another bite of apple as she averted her gaze. "Well, if this notebook is real, is it related?" she mumbled between chewing. "Does Kira have something like this one? I mean, if it's true then that means lives could be saved without any personal effort from the user. Isn't that basically how Kira has been killing people?"

Ceres woke up for what felt like the millionth time that night. For a moment she believed that perhaps she could make a difference in the Kira case, but soon convinced herself once again that it was only wishful thinking. _There's just no denying it; I'm crazy for even thinking that what happened back there was a miracle. It was just a coincident…anyone with a brain knows there's no stopping Kira with a book…_ She looked up towards a nearby window from her cot on the floor and saw that the sun was starting to make itself known. She wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now, so instead she decided to rise early for the weekend. She went to the kitchen and sat at the table once more to turn on the television. Randomly she began flipping through the channels; surely there must have been a good sitcom on or something…

"-despite the latest setback within the investigation teams, the search for Kira is still up in flames. The great detective L is still pursuing the case and from what we were told, it won't be long before Kira is brought to justice…"

Ceres drowned out the words as she stared at the news bar at the bottom of the screen. "Recent setback…?" she repeated. The news never seemed to be able to reveal any happenings within the force tracking Kira and could only tell Japan's hopeful citizens that soon it would all be over. Ceres remembered when L first appeared on the television screens all over the Kanto region and made the first big break in tracking Kira, but beyond that, and especially now, the detective seemed almost non-existent. She sighed and sat back in her chair, listening on as the local news talked about the week's weather. _L's probably dead anyway, whoever he is…_


	3. Chapter 2

L woke with a start, sitting up quickly and breathing insanely. He clutched his chest, his eyes wide as he looked around. He noticed the unusual shine of metal and aluminum as well as the smell of embalming fluid almost immediately. He looked to his right, and as soon as he had he threw his hands up in terror, screaming, and promptly fell directly to the left off of the metal table. He landed on the floor in a heap, a little bruised as his raccoon eyes gazed around the room. He raised his hand. "I'm...alive?!" His breathing was in uneven bursts and he thought it impossible. "This cannot be..." he muttered, staggering to his feet. He tried his hardest to keep his gaze forward and not in the direction of the dead body on the other side of the table that had startled him. He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes and trying to relax. "This is not good...this is not the work of Kira, or any of the shinigami..." It took a moment for him to realize that he was, in fact, as naked as the day he was born. He knew he couldn't just walk out of there in such a fashion, so he had to find some temporary clothing. He searched the room but could find no trace of the clothes he was wearing when he had lost his life. However, on a coat rack was a white lab coat only a size or two bigger than what he wore. It would have to do. Pushing his arms through the sleeves, he buttoned it up tight and looked down. Though the coat tail covered what was important, there was still the matter of trousers. Cringing, he gazed to his right. The body that was beside him on the table was still clothed. Truth to be told, L was hoping he wasn't so that he didn't have to make that desperate choice of action.

Pushing through the two metal doors, L made his way down a narrow hallway. Luckily the place wasn't very crowded, and his disguise was keeping him unnoticed. So long as no one looked at his bare feet until he got out, he was safe. Passing by a desk, there was an abandoned pair of glasses just begging him to take them. Pushing them up his nose with one finger, L promptly exited the building.

He began walking, slightly drunk from the whole experience, back in the direction of his home. Giving his environment a once-over, he deduced that they were going to hold a small, private ceremony for him in Japan before shipping the body off to England for a more formal service. However, his mind was abuzz with other concerns. How was he alive? Who did it? And what became of Kira? There had to be an explanation; a logical explanation.

Ceres watched the news for another fifteen or so minutes before deciding that she had better run some errands while it was still daylight outside. The thought of the 'recent setback' that the news anchor mentioned kept playing around in her head. She figured it must have meant that the undercover team covering the Kira case had hit a brick wall with the investigation. Truthfully, she didn't follow the case as closely as a lot of other people did.

Gazing at the note across from her on the table, she picked it up and shoved it in her bag, stepping out of her home into the rainy atmosphere. She quickly flipped the hood up on the small brown jacket she was wearing and walked down the near deserted streets towards the subway. Her favorite store was across town, and she was desperately hoping that they had restocked her favorite soup.

She shrugged her pack on further as she approached the station. It was a little foggy outside, which put her a bit on edge, but she was almost used to this feeling. She peered through the misty air. Someone was standing at the entrance of the subway, slightly hunched over as if they had a neck or back problem. They were dressed in a white lab coat, some dirty jeans, and…no shoes? She cautiously approached, and when she descended into the subway station, he did also. Ceres felt her heart skip a beat and her breathing had quickened. Before she knew it they were standing close to side by side waiting for the subway train. Ceres kept her head down, but could not overcome the nerve to look for his face. As soon as she had, he turned his head toward her, his eyes wide with innocence. His eyes were black, dark circles accompanying them, though he did not appear tired. As he looked he popped a piece of candy into his mouth.

He definitely looked like a potential criminal, but the wide-eyed look and candy in his possession had the woman torn between decisions whether to be worried or just ignore him like she did all of the other men she met at the subway.

When the subway train finally arrived he boarded first, disappearing among the people inside. Ceres boarded a second after, still a bit curious. She noticed he sat just as any other would—anywhere he could find. She sat herself normally too, across from him and a little ways to the right. She watched him from under her hood pull candies from his pocket and eat them.

_Strange behavior, _she thought. _But what do I care? If he was going to do something I'm sure he'd of done it by now. _It wouldn't be the first time she looked at a man from across the alley of a subway car and wondered if they were some sort of psychopath who was going to hijack the train. She enjoyed playing out the scenario in her head, coming up with different ways she would be the hero and save the day. Daydreaming was fun.

"You know, you can save the day every day with that notebook you found," came a sudden voice that was seemingly right next to her. Just as it pronounced itself had the train hit some sort of bump and sent her flying to the floor with a yelp, her bag landing beside her, the Life Note slipping out. She looked behind her at her seat to see someone who was not there before. He had dark blonde hair and blue eyes. How did he know about the note? And...oh no, now that strange man could see it! Ceres turned away from the spontanious boy and stretched out, panicking, to the Life Note. The man in the lab coat was right there, and…he was staring at the Note with something more than curiosity. Was it disbelief or something far more complex?

She felt paper meet skin—that was it; the Life Note was back in her hands. She wasn't exactly sure why she was so suddenly attached to the thing. Maybe it was because this other person knew about it and…maybe a part of her truly believed it was real. The creepy man's black eyes were on her now, taking her in hungrily. And the other boy, he was, Ceres had nearly forgotten about him.

"Oh, well, you do seem quite attached," the voice came again. It was soft, and smooth. Like yogurt. Oh yes, now she remembered.

Ceres' eyes found him instantly. There was a certain air of pleasantness that couldn't be ignored. Simply by looking at him Ceres was filled with a warm, light feeling, she suddenly had the urge to run up and hug him; how any of the other passengers could stand being so far away from him was beyond her. He wore a simple white T-shirt and a pair of jeans with sneakers, like any other teen. However his blonde hair seemed to glow as well as his skin and eyes. His eyes were perhaps the most striking feature; bright, sky blue orbs that screamed purity. She was so distracted by the teen's beauty she didn't notice as the creep continued to stare at her, nor did she notice the slight frown on his lips.

The glowing teen smiled back at her, the feeling intensified. "You do like it don't you?" he sounded deeply amused, not in a smug way, just content.

L had known instantly that something was off course. Of course catching her grasping for such an oddly named notebook was a blaring hint. Life Note; there was no mistaking it: the girl's book was the twin of Light's Death Note and L knew why and how he was back. The owner of the Life Note, whether it was the girl or not, had brought him back. He could only pray it was not a mistake. He was still holding a candy between his fingers which he intended to eat, but had stopped mid-bite at all of the commotion.

He continued to stare at her from the time their eyes first locked. She seemed timid and avoided his face ever since, though he knew she was chancing glances at him from time to time with those knowing blue eyes of hers.

Ceres stumbled to her feet, hugging the notebook close, and found a seat as far away from L as possible. She didn't know what to do as she stared at the floor. She chanced hesitant glances at him only to find that he was _still_ staring at her. She turned back, frightened beyond belief. _Why is he still staring at me? Does he know what this book is too? Does he want to steal it? Oh my god, am I going to be robbed?! Oh god, oh god, why me?_

"Calm down, it's not the end of the world you know," came a soft, musical voice, the voice of that boy.

Ceres looked up. He was standing right in front of her. He just appeared there like some sort of ghost. "Who are y-" She saw a passenger faze right through him as if he were a hologram. Her eyes widened. "Ok I'll just skip the 'who' and go straight to the 'what the hell are you?!"

The boy looked around quickly and then pushed his finger to her lips gently. "Hey, hey, now don't go screaming into thin air like that. People will think you're crazy," he smiled.

Ceres was confused. He pulled his finger away and continued. "My name is Apollo. That book used to be mine. Seems I went and lost it again," he sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "You found it in the alley right? Goodness what on earth was I doing there? No…couldn't have been...no, not that either." He looked up. "Hmmm..."

Ceres was still on one subject. "What are you?" she asked quietly.

Apollo looked at her, then smiled. "I'm Apollo, an angel from the second level of Heaven. Nice to meet you, Ceres, isn't it?"

Ceres just stared at him. _An angel? This kid must be on drugs…or I'm on drugs… I must be dreaming or got hit in the head or...maybe getting hit by that car did this to me_.

Apollo took a seat next to her. "Nah, it wasn't the car." He pointed to her bag which the note was in. "This, this is how you and only you can see and hear me. This is what saved your life. If your hand hadn't of landed on it, you would be dead."

Ceres wasted no time in reaching in and grabbing the note, almost shoving it towards his chest for him to take it. "Here, take it if it's yours." She wanted to be rid of the burden as quickly as possible. It was making a habit of bringing her bad luck.

Apollo refused by shaking his head and leaning back a little. "It's not mine anymore. Once it was dropped here in the human world, it belongs to the human that picks it up."

"I didn't pick it up, someone dumped my body on it!" she exclaimed with a frown.

"But you _did _pick it up later," Apollo said with a wink.

"But… Why me? Why was I chosen to have this?" she asked, figuring that this must have been all set up. It couldn't have just been a coincidence, could it?

Apollo stared and then laughed, but not in the mean way. "Silly girl, I didn't _choose_ you. No one chose you. The book just happened to land somewhere where two drunk men decided to dump the body of a young woman they hit on the street with their truck. You happened to pick it up when you came to. It was all an accident."

"Wait, I was hit by a drunk driver?" she asked, changing the subject for a small second before shaking her head back to the situation at hand. "An accident?"

"But if you really don't want it than you can give it back," Apollo simply said. "All memory of having had it will be erased, however."

Ceres stared at the note. "There is a name written in here. Did they…really come back to life?" She was blabbing on about the book as if no one could hear despite her whispers. What she didn't know, though, was that the man in the lab coat was in fact listening intently as she spoke into the air beside her.

In fact, because the woman was slipping up and speaking aloud in such a public place about her possession L was completely convinced, one-hundred percent, that she had the Death Note's twin. Also, that this note also had some sort of supernatural being attached to it, just as the Death Note had a Shinigami. He decided to stay quiet and wait until the conversation was over.

Apollo brought his knees to his chin and tried to sit like L. "How in the world does he do that? This is...ugh..tough!" He looked at Ceres before losing balance, feet quickly hitting the floor to keep balance. "Yes, of course. One can be brought back within 3 days of his death. It's in the rules. Did you read them? You did read the rules, right?"

Ceres shook her head and tried to hand it to him again. "It doesn't matter if I did or not, I don't want this. I don't plan on using it. Please take it back?" She had enough troubles to deal with. She didn't need a supernatural force to take care of too. That had to be worse than house training a new puppy.

Apollo shook his hands in front of his face. "Nah, you keep it. I don't want it right now. Too much responsibility."

"But I don't want it!" she complained.

"Oh come on, don't you think you can make a difference with it? I mean, I've noticed you've been watching the Kira case lately."

"The Kira case?" She looked down. "Well yeah, who isn't? That's just...one cannot bring justice like that. It's wrong." Her voice had grown lower and softer, clearly trying to hide which side she was on about this whole Kira ordeal.

"Well, look at it this way: He has this, strange power to kill people, and you have the power to bring them back, save them, undo his wrong. Don't you want to make a difference?" Apollo said while trying L's position again.

Ceres stared. "I can't make a difference... I work in a flower shop owned by the crankiest woman in this entire country and live in an abandoned house, not even on the radar. It's hard enough walking to and from the grocery store once a week. I can't take care of this. I can't change the world."

Apollo pointed at the note again. "But with this you can. Besides, I'm bored. I want to stay here a little while. Don't worry, I'll look after ya!"

Ceres peered at him. For an elegant and beautiful angel, he sounded like the typical teenager. "What am I supposed to do now?" she asked as the train car came to a slow, screeching halt.

Apollo was about to say something but then stopped, open-mouthed, staring in front of him. He pointed, "Ah, you have a stalker here."

"Huh?" Ceres looked forward and nearly jumped out of her skin. L was standing with slightly bent knees in front of her. He had been watching her carefully the whole ride, noticing how she gestured towards the air beside her as if someone was there. "This is your stop," he said in a small voice.

Ceres looked out the window then and laughed nervously. "Actually it's-"

"Follow me please," L said, turning, and leaving to exit the train car.

Apollo elbowed Ceres gently, speaking from the corner of his mouth. "You might want to follow him."

Ceres stood and followed timidly. Why? She wasn't sure. But she feared if she chose to not get up and follow, this crazy person would do something drastic, and she wasn't so much in the 'hero' mood anymore. She stepped off the train and stopped a few feet away from the man. The train began to leave and Apollo stood in the middle of the tracks, scratching the back of his head and watching it depart. "What a way to travel!" he said with a smile to apparently no one.

Ceres ignored him. Her eyes were locked on L. Did he know? Was he aware of what went on in the train car? She was so confused at this point. Confused and scared and nervous.

L's head turned to her and he popped a candy in his mouth and swallowed. "Would you come with me please? I want to talk," he said, his voice a little muffled by the candy.

"Why can't we just talk right here? I can talk right here. Let's talk right here. In public." Ceres said, laughing nervously again.

L stared blankly at her. "I have cake at home. It's more comfortable there too." He turned and began walking.

Apollo jogged up to Ceres quickly. "Did he say cake?"

Ceres sighed. She went in behind L, Apollo running around behind her but also following. _What does he want? Is he going to kill me? He doesn't look like the type to just kill someone... Who the hell is he anyway? And what happened to his shoes?!_


End file.
